A True Pirate
by Queen-Lucy-Pevensie
Summary: After Will takes over from Davey Jones, Elizabeth decides to go after him. I've got some really neat ideas for this one...
1. Contemplations of a Journey

**(I've decided to write a fan flick about Elizabeth Swan. She decides to get Will back, and heads out looking for him. I've already got so many ideas for this one, I can't wait to write them all, so if you like this story and want to know what's going to happen next, please review!)**

Chapter 1

Contemplations of a Journey

Elizabeth was tired of crying. It didn't matter how many tears were shed, they would never bring Will back to her. The sea had stolen him away and she was left here.

But "here" is such a neutral word. "Here" is one of those words that can be changed. Why would she stay "here" when she wanted to be "there", when she wanted to be with Will on the _Flying Dutchman_, even if it meant carving out her own heart to stay with him?

Elizabeth slipped out of bed and donned her bed robe, tying the belt around her waist as she walked across the room to her bureau. Her slim fingers searched round the back of the chest of drawers until they found the lever that released the secret drawer. The drawer slid silently out from the side of the bureau, the mechanism snapping softly as it slid into place. It was a wide and rather deep drawer, cleverly hidden within the wooden structure so that no one would ever be suspicious of its presence. She slowly reached into it and retrieved three objects, one after the other.

The first object was the chain that once had held a gold pirate's medallion. It was the very same one that first brought her and Will together at the beginning of all their adventures. She fondled it lovingly as she reminisced, before gently laying it to the side. Next she pulled out the long, slim saber that Will had made for Commodore Norington, a lifetime ago, it seemed now. Carefully she slipped her hand around the handle and pulled it an inch from the sheath. What was now exposed of the blade was very beautiful and very well crafted steel. Yes, she could definitely use _this_ where she was going. Gently she laid it to the side.

Last of all she pulled out an intricately carved chest, bound in iron. It had a curious lock on its front, a lock with a double key hole. Her hand strayed to the heavy chain around her neck and she pulled the weighted item that was strung on it out from beneath her robe: it was the key, a two pronged key and the only thing that could open the chest. There was no locksmith in all the world could unlock the double lock without the proper key. Elizabeth always kept it close to her heart.

Laying her hand upon the chest, she could fell the beat of life pulsating from within. She slipped the key into the lock and gently turned it. A soft _snick_ sounded through the room as the lock mechanism slipped open; the chest sat unlocked at her fingertips.

Elizabeth inhaled a deep breath. She knew what lay inside the chest, could hear the steady rhythm of each beat, but it seemed so strange just to _look_ at it. It was not really a thing that should be seen, but a secret that should only be felt by the heart. She could feel it now, even through the chest, pulsating, breathing, beating…

Quickly she slid the key back into the lock and turned it, returning the key to its place close to her heart. The thing in the chest was not something she would relish _seeing_, though she loved it dearly and would lay her life on the line to keep it from harm. She needed only to have it close, and she felt safe. And she could do _that_ without ever seeing the contents of the mysterious chest. She laid her hands on the lid, feeling the comforting beat one last time before she set the chest aside.

As she looked at all the items she had brought forth from the drawer, now bathed in a stream of moonlight shining through the window, she fingered another item hidden beneath the silk fabric of her robe, another secret that did not quite fit with the life of luxury she had returned to after Will had sailed away on the _Flying Dutchman_. It was a small, silver piece of eight, half melted along one edge and with a hole through the middle so it could easily be strung on the chain around her neck. As she fingered it, her mind replayed all that had happened since she first received the small silver piece from Captain Feng as he lay dieing in his ship's hold. He had given it to her and named her captain, making her his heir as one of the nine pirate lords. Then it was, as she was in counsel with the other eight lords, she was named Pirate King. It was just happenstance, she knew; a trick, really, played by Captain Jack Sparrow of the Black Pearl to mislead her good intentions for his own twisted purposes. In all honesty, when she thought on it, it was because of Jack Sparrow that Will could not be with her now.

But she would make that change. The piece of eight would only aid her on her mission. As the Pirate King, all pirates were to respect her; she would be able to get a ship, a crew, and provisions without hardly any trouble, thanks to Captain Jack. She _would_ find Will, and she _would_ change what would be a lifetime of loneliness.

Quickly she dug through the drawer again, pulling out the outfit given to her by Captain Feng when he thought she was the sea goddess Calypso. It was truly a beautiful getup, sewn of cobalt silk and embroidered with gold thread. More importantly it was fit attire for the King of all Pirates to wear. All those bloody cutthroats would respect her, if they knew who she was. And they would. She pulled on the breaches and tunic, fastening the gold buttons on the over coat, and pulling up her hair so it would be out of her face, fitting the three-cornered hat on her head last of all. When she was completely dressed, she belted Will's sword around her waist, slipped the medallion chain into her pocket, and picked up the chest. It wasn't very heavy, though it would be bulky to carry, but she hated to leave it behind lest somebody find it and do harm to the contents… Will's heart was in there, and if it was harmed in any way, hers would die of grief.

_I __must__ take it,_ she thought to herself, looking towards the window. It was a long way to the ground from her balcony, but to go down the stairs and out the front door would mean announcing her leave to everyone. _It wouldn't be hard for a pirate._ The thought turned her resolve hard. Taking the chest to the balcony, she hurried to her bed and grabbed the sheets, tearing them into strips. Quickly she knotted them together, making one end of the make-shift rope fast around the banister, and tying the other through the handles of the chest. Carefully, slowly she lowered the chest to the ground and slung one leg over the banister, but just as she was about to descend, she heard footsteps in the hall outside her bedroom door. The handle was starting to turn…

Elizabeth swung her other leg over the banister and looked down. It seemed a very far way to the ground below. For a second or two she hesitated, but then she heard the sound of a key in the lock of her door. She thanked the stars she always locked her door at night, and leapt from the balcony.

Air rushed past her face. Her stomach was turning summersaults within her and her heart was beating in her throat as she fell, down, down… _Thud!_ Her legs crumpled beneath her and she tucked them in and rolled to soften the impact. Then she leapt to her feet, grabbed the chest and ran. She didn't know where she was running, she just ran. Behind her she heard a scream and the high-pitched voice of the maid calling her name over and over, but she never once stopped or looked back over her shoulder. The wharf was a far way off yet, and she needed to reach it before morning or she'd probably be picked up by the search party and dragged back to her house. But she wouldn't go back! She wouldn't!

After what seemed like hours, she finally stopped to catch her breath. She would never reach the docks at all if she didn't stop to think and pace herself. It was still many hours before dawn; she had time to think as she walked, and to plan out what she should do next. The _Flying Dutchman_ was not a ship to be called on a whim. One had to know how to call it. It was a very serious matter. Will was now the courier of the souls of the dead, and to the dead or the dying he would come, but to her voice? Who knew? It was a cruel fate that they were now separated, but she planned to remedy that. One way or the other, she would find him, if it meant calling upon Calypso herself. Surely the Sea Nymph would now how to locate the ghost ship…

Elizabeth kept walking. The peer could not be too far off now. First things first. She needed a ship, and a decent crew. Surely the Pirate King, could easily obtain those. How hard could it be?

**(Ok, so I'm already working on Chapter 2 titled "Trouble at the Wharf". If you liked this first chapter, please tell me so and review!)**


	2. Trouble at the Wharf

**(second chapter! I think you'll really like this...)**

Chapter 2

Trouble at the Wharf

When Elizabeth reached the docks, it was in morning disarray. People were scrambling back and forth, looking for a ship, calling to the sea merchants, passing out coins, getting robbed…. Elizabeth noticed one man snatch a pouch of coins from an unsuspecting gentleman's belt. As the pirate was walking past, she bumped him "accidentally", grabbing the coins and returning them to their rightful owner before the poor man even knew what was going on.

Looking around, she inwardly sighed with relief to know that she had left the chest hidden in the woods, and hadn't brought it with her to the wharf. No one would think to look where she had left it, not even a pirate. If she had brought it, something was sure to happen to it, especially here of all places.

Glancing around, she spotted one ship at dock that looked promising (promising here, meaning pirate-y) and walked towards it, straightening her jacket as she walked. As the ship loomed up in her vision she felt her breath catch in her throat. This was truly a beautiful ship, there was no denying the fact, but there was something about it that seemed so familiar… She couldn't quite put her finger on what it was, but she had a feeling she'd seen this ship before, perhaps even sailed on it once.

There was a man standing on the wharf just in front of the ship with his back to her. She came up to him and gently tapped him on the shoulder.

"Uh, excuse me sir, but could you direct me to…"

The man turned at the touch of her hand. His was a familiar face with twinkling, mischievous eyes and hair that was growing thin and graying.

"Why, Elizabeth! What are you doing down here? Last I'd heard o' ye, ye were livin' it up is some big place in town."

"Mr. Gibbs! How good to see you again. I thought you went off with Barbbosa to search out the Fountain of Youth."

Mr. Gibbs nodded. "Aye miss, that I did, but we didn't get far afore we realized that scoundrel Jack had pinched the charts from beneath our very noses. Couldn't even look for the darned thing, let alone find it. So after we'd sailed for a bit trying to find that sneaky rascal, we decided to come back to berth and restock. S'better than runnin' dry on the high sea."

Elizabeth looked up at the ship again, recognition finally dawning on her. "But then, if you're back then this would be…"

"The Black Pearl. Aye miss."

Elizabeth eyed the ship expertly. "She certainly doesn't look like the Pearl as I last saw her."

It was true. The Black Pearl was fitted out with a new coat of paint, and scrubbed clean of the grim and sea creatures that once had bunked on her haul. Seeing her fixed up, Elizabeth could almost see her at the head of an armada, leading the ships behind her into battle… but those pictures were quickly pushed aside. A ship like the Pearl must never be chained down in such a an undignified fashion. She was meant to roam the seas, to rule it alone. She didn't need an armada, or a crew of the royal navy. All she needed was her captain, a pirate crew, and the sweat of working men bathing her deck. She could never be as beautiful at the head of an armada.

An idea was beginning to form in Elizabeth's head. Her luck had been amazing so far. Coming to the wharf she had expected to find a second-rate, half-broken ship and a crew that she knew would have to be bribed to get them to take her seriously, but now she had stumbled upon the Pearl. Barbossa would know about the chest and Will's heart, and the pirates she had sailed with on her last two adventures would probably be willing to sail with her again. But she needed to talk to Barbossa…

"Mr. Gibbs, could you tell me where I might find captain Barbossa? I need to speak to him right away."

Mr. Gibbs eyed her closely and shook his head. "Captain's awful busy right now. I doubt he'd want to be disturbed." He winked at her. "Got a date with a rum bottle and I'd hate to interrupt it, specially with 'ow he sings when he's laid out!"

But Elizabeth didn't laugh. "I'm totally serious, Mr. Gibbs, and if you don't cooperate I might have to get violent."

"But miss Swan…"

"That's Turner, Mr. Gibbs, in case you'd forgotten, and need I remind you that I was named Pirate King by the brethren of the court? I must speak with Barbossa immediately. It is a matter of great importance. It cannot wait."

"Certainly miss… Turner. I'll see to it right away, though I can't say as Barbossa will be pleased with how I mean to bring him to…" Gibbs bowed and quickly hurried up the gangplank.

* * *

Sometime later Elizabeth was seen into Barbossa's cabain. The Pirate Captain was taking his leisure in a high backed chair behind a mahogany desk which most certainly had seen better days. Leaning back in his chair with his feet on the desk top, Barbossa peered over the lip of the rum bottle in his hands, scrutinizing Elizabeth as Mr. Gibbs closed the door behind her. Finally he brought his feet down off the desk and leaned forward, a smile breaking his thin lips, beyond which his yellowed teeth could be seen. 

"Ah, Miss Turner! I wasn't expectin' ye, but I be a mite happy to see ye again. Welcome aboard the Pearl! Now, what is it I can do for ye?"

Elizabeth gingerly seated herself in a filthy chair and looked Barbossa square in the eyes. "I find myself in need of a ship and a crew."

"Ah, now that be the thing, doesn't it? What are ye plannin' on doin' with a ship and a crew, I begin to wonder? Because you see, Miss Turner, the Pearl's now fit to sail again, but I be the captain, and only I be a sayin' where she be sailin' to."

"I need the pearl to help me find the _Flying Dutchman_."

All went silent in the cabin. Barbossa's mouth was hanging askew as he looked at Elizabeth as if she were crazy.

"What! You… you mean you're wanting to go search out the _Dutchman?_"

"Oh, I mean to do much more than that, Captain. I won't just look for it, I'll _find _it."

Captain Barbossa leaned forward even more in his chair. "And what would you be wanting to do that for, might I ask? Could it possibly have anything to do with our dear William?" He looked at her, taking a gulp of rum and then slamming the bottle onto the desk top with a _bang!_ "The Pearl may be a fast ship, she may be a good ship, her crew may be the best, but it won't matter. You can't just _find_ the _Dutchman_. You might as well face it, missy, your William's never coming back."

"I've taken most of what you've said into account already, Captain, but you've forgotten one thing; I am the keeper of Will's heart. I hold it, I protect it… I _will _find him, captain, and I mean to enlist the Pearl to do so. I will pull every string in the book, if I have to, even if I have to call on Captain Teague to remind you of all the Pirate King is entitled to. And we wouldn't want that, would we?" She gave him a cold smile.

Barbossa leaned back in his chair again, steepling his dirty, grimy fingers. "You seem to be sure of yourself."

"I am."

"Then I want to see it."

Elizabeth lifted an eyebrow. "See what?"

"The heart. I want to see the heart." When she began to protest, he silenced her with a hand. "Now, I'm the captain of this vessel and I've a right to know about the cargo she'll be totin'. You can't very well deny me that, now can you?"

Finally she consented. "Agreed then. But I didn't bring it with me to the wharf…"

"A wise move."

"I know." She eyed him suspiciously. "If there's one thing I learned in the years that I've now been in the company of Pirates, it's never to trust them, and always to watch them…

"If you want to see the heart, you'll have to come with me. And come alone. We must be quick. The last thing I need is to be discovered and dragged off to the boring life of aristocracy before I've even a chance of finding Will. And I've a feeling we don't have much time before that very thing happens…"

* * *

Elizabeth was very aware of the presence of captain Barbossa over her shoulder as she pushed back the leaves of the chest's hiding place. Dew soaked her clothing, chilling her skin, but she ignored it. Reaching into the small hole, she felt around until she discovered the latch to the hidden safe and her fingers found the lock. Working blindly, for the sun hadn't risen far enough for the shadows in the forest to have lifted, she unlocked the secret hollow and reached inside. 

Her fingers felt only cool soil.

"Can you lend me a light?"

Wordlessly Barbossa handed her the lit torch they had brought along. She pushed back the leaves yet again and stuck her head through the opening, swiping the torch in a small arc so she could see…

The Chest was gone!

**(so tell me what you think... review!)**


	3. Clues to a Scoundrel, Clues to a Friend

**(Ok, chapter three is up! I just got it done. tell me what you think!)**

Chapter 3

Clues to a scoundrel, clues to a friend

Elizabeth sat back on her haunches, too stunned to speak. The chest was gone! But if that wasn't bad enough, the blame could only be pinned on herself! It was her fault, and no one else's! She and she alone had made the decision to leave it behind but now she wished — oh how she wished! — that she had taken it with her to the wharf!

Barbossa's voice drifted over her shoulder, breaking her stupor. "What's 'a matter, Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth choked on the words. They just wouldn't come out right! "It's… It's…"

"Come on, girl! Spit it out!"

"No!" she shouted, springing forward and thrusting the leaves hiding the secret hole carelessly aside. "It's still there! It has to be!" Long twigs pulled at her hair and snagged the fine clothing. She ignored it and forced herself farther in, but beyond the first bushes was cast in shadow and her eyes met only darkness.

Strong hands grabbed her ankles, dragging her back through the mud and rotting vegetation carpeting the ground. She struggled against it, her mind lost to only one fact: _The chest was gone!_ But the hands gripping her were strengthened from years of pirate living. Barbossa pulled her free of the undergrowth and plopped her down on the ground.

"Elizabeth, girl, pull yourself together! What's gone? The chest?"

Elizabeth looked at the dark hole in front of her as if some ancient monster was about to ooze out of it. The torch, still held in her now vice grip, threw eerie shadows across the opening. Long grasses and weeds stood silhouetted in the orange glow.

When she didn't speak, Barbossa grabbed the torch with a scowl and thrust his way through the undergrowth until he could kneel before the hollow's opening. He peered into the musty gloom, sweeping the torch back and forth so he could view all of the confined space within. All he saw were the smooth, wood-enforced dirt walls and a scuffed soil floor. On the floor, tossed carelessly in one corner, there was what looked to be the tattered remnants of what once had been a red-colored head scarf — but there was no chest. The small space was undoubtedly empty.

Barbossa reached in and grabbed the dirty red rag before withdrawing his head and the torch. He turned to face Elizabeth who sat staring unseeingly at her hands. Barbossa jabbed the torch into the ground and tossed the rag into her lap with a sneer.

"There! What d'ya make o' that, I wonder?"

Elizabeth fingered the scarf between forefinger and thumb, running her free hand over a coin that dangled from one of the scarf's ends. She glanced up at the glowering pirate and nodded towards the hole. "You found this in there?"

"Look at it well, Miss. Don't it seem familiar t'you?"

Elizabeth studied the scarf again. It sure did! She'd know that red bandana anywhere, even faded and tattered as it was. And the coin, half melted like hers, spinning slowly from the torn corner as she held it up in the light of the torch… there was only one person who wore it like that.

"Captain Barbossa, I think it's time we looked up our old friend, Jack sparrow, wouldn't you agree." She stared at the piece of scarf, her eyes narrowing to tiny slits, her lips set in a hard line.

"Aye," Barbossa said gravely, "It's about time I got me charts back!"

* * *

Captain Jack Sparrow pressed the bottle of sour rum to his lips and took a long draught, slamming the bottle on to the table's pocked surface when he was finished. He wiped the drips away from his lips with the back of his grimy hand and stared into the candle flame flickering dolefully on its wick. Screams and the sounds of a brawl echoed beyond the door shutting him away from the rest of the pirate civilization, but he didn't feel like fighting or running at the moment. The _Black Dog_ was a pirate's haven, but it certainly wasn't the place to come if you wished for a quiet place to think. He'd been glad to pay the extra coin for this private room, where he reclined on the two back legs of his chair, his feet stamped proudly over the dark wood chest. 

Life was sure lucky… or else not… He hadn't decided what turn of fate this was. It was by sheer accident that he'd stumbled into that hole, after his compass had led him on a merry chase over and over again to his rum bottle and he'd finally decided to ride his dingy back to the dock where he could get more rum. Rum was good! And perhaps if he had enough of it, his hearts desire would finally be to find that fountain of youth instead of turning him in circles and getting him drunk. He smiled at the thought and took another long draught from the bottle in his hand, enjoying the fiery tingle as the coarse liquor roared down his throat and into his bowels.

But then, of course, a careless pirate is always one to get caught. Just because the East India Trading company had been put in its place, didn't mean there weren't others out to cuff their silver around a pirate's wrists. Jack had forgotten about the others — or rather he didn't, but wasn't thinking about them when he docked. That turned out to be a bad choice. "Never turn your back on your enemies" was a pirate's unspoken, unwritten law. If you were a pirate everyone was your enemy. Jack had broken that law, and his punishment was being chased into the forest by big-headed officers who couldn't wait to get their hands and their nooses around a Pirate's neck. If it hadn't been that his foot slipped into that secreted hollow and dragged him down under the undergrowth, he probably would've been already hanging on a gallows. And then to find this thrice accursed chest right where he fell… what a bonus! 'Course it wasn't Davey Jone's heart that was in it, but Miss Swan should have been more careful in where she put the darned thing.

Ah, Miss Swan! Jack allowed the picture of her face to drift into his mind. He sighed over it and drank another swig of rum. Now, wouldn't she be wanting the chest back? Of course she would! And there was probably something to be gained for the person who brought it back… 'Course, it'd be hard to take anything from _her_. She was too high spirited, too free… too pretty. She was _very _pretty…

A hard bang on the wooden door made him jolt and fight to keep his balance on the chair's back legs. He took a couple moments to get himself righted, gulped down another swig of rum and called to the door, "Come in, oo-ever y' are!"

The door was thrust open and in tromped the dirty, tough, sweaty, scared-looking innkeeper with a knife at his throat, followed by a grim faced Elizabeth Swan, followed by a leering Captain Barbossa. Jack leapt to his feet, swiping the chest under the table with the back of his heel and sweeping the rum bottle back and forth in his hand as he cast Elizabeth a crafty smile.

"'ello, love. Come all th'way 'ere t' visit, did ya?"

Elizabeth threw Jack a cold smile and tightened her hold on the innkeeper's shoulder. "Jack." She nodded at him. "What are you doing back at Port Royal. Pirates are against the law here, shunned and hanged."

"Well then I guess we both be wanted men, _Pirate King_… or a wanted man and a woman as it may be… or two wanted men and a woman, if you count Barbossa there..."

"Hello Jack." Barbossa scowled toward the pirate captain.

"Hello Hector." Jack turned back to Elizabeth, pointing at the knife held in her hand with one finger from around the lip of the rum bottle. "I take it y' didn't come for a friendly chat."

Elizabeth shoved the man away from her and nodded for him to leave. He scrambled around her to the door, glancing fearfully at the knife in her hand and then at the strung coin hanging from around her neck for all to see. Elizabeth closed the door behind him and sheathed the knife in its scabbard, glaring at Jack.

Jack pretended to ignore her glance and reseated himself in the only chair, plopping his feet on the table top. "And now that we're finally alone, y' mind tellin' me how y' found me and why you had your weapon drawn when you so rudely barged in?"

Elizabeth slapped the flat of her hand against the table top. "Don't toy around with me Jack. You know good and well why we've come."

Jack peered at her from over the lip of his bottle and through the shadows cast by the candle flame. "Well, I can guess why you're here, but why's _he_ here." He motioned to Barbossa.

"Now don't tell me ye've forgotten how you _'borrowed' _me charts… Jack."

Jack gulped inwardly. Stupid charts! They'd only gotten him into more trouble ever since he pinched them right out from under Barbossa's nose. He had to smile at that. Hector Barbossa hadn't even guessed, and by the time he'd discovered his loss, Jack was long gone.

"Well, waddayaknow." He slid his feet down from atop the table and leaned forward. "Guess y' _do_ have reason t' be here."

Elizabeth yanked the tattered red cloth out from her belt and slapped it down on the table.

"Recognize this, Jack?"

Jack looked at the familiar piece and winced. That was his third slip! _Keep this up, Jackey, and you'll soon have that pretty rope necklace you always have nightmares about…_ He glanced at the piece over his nose, then back up at Elizabeth.

"So…"

Elizabeth grabbed the faded bandana and flung it at him over the table. "Now don't tell me that isn't yours! You know good and well that it is!" She leaned forward, the flat of her hands pressing down on the table, her eyes slitted dangerously. "I want it back!"

"Want what back, love?"

"The chest."

Jack smiled and took another sip of rum, afterwards offering it to Elizabeth who turned her head away. "Alright, love. Y'can 'ave the chest back. Why would I wan' it?"

"With Will's heart in it."

Jack pushed the chest out from under the table with the toe of his boot and, placing his heal on the lid, shoved it over to where she could reach it. "It's in there, a'right. I was on'y returnin' it, anyway… but…" He stood and walked around the table to where Elizabeth stood looking down at the chest, and placed a booted foot on the lid. "I want somefin in return."

Elizabeth looked down at the chest and at the booted foot planted firmly on its lid. The wood hadn't even been scuffed, let alone cracked or shattered. But this was a dangerous game she must play to get it back. She eyed Jack with knowing eyes and was surprised to find that he looked back at her with much less of an intense stare than she expected from those deep, dark eyes.

"What is it you want?"

Jack chuckled softly, the dreadlocks swinging around his face and jingling softly as the coins tied to the ends of his braids clinked together. "I'n't it funny 'ow situations are turned 'round about?" He shifted his weight and leaned one elbow on his knee. "What I wants is ship."

"A ship? Done. I can get you any ship that you want."

"I want the _Pearl._"

"What?!?" Barbossa roared. He scowled and strode forward. "Ye can't have me ship!"

"I believe its _my_ ship, me ol' mate, and as long as the Pirate King says she's mine, she's mine, savvey?"

"But…" Barbossa stuttered, but Elizabeth stopped him with a wave of her hand.

"You want the pearl. Is that all?"

Jack straightened, the bottle swaying from his hand. "Nope! I want's a crew to sail her with and provisions… oh, and a dock pass so those dratted officers don't start on me again…"

Elizabeth stopped him with a glare. "Fine then. Done. You can have the _Peal,_ a crew, and provisions… on one condition…" She bent forward, gently retrieving the chest from under Jack's boot.

"And what might tha' be?"

She leaned forward. "I go with you."

Jack straightened and swung around. "Done!" he roared, gulping down another swig of rum.

But Barbossa reached forward, grabbing Elizabeth by the collar. "What d'ya think you're doin', givin' that scoundrel my ship! Y'had no right!"

Elizabeth supported the chest on one knee as she reached up and undid Barbossa's fingers from the sleeve of her overcoat. "I believe, Captain Barbossa," she said in a confiding whisper, "that I just did."

Barbossa re-grabbed the coat by the arm and pulled her in close to his face. She turned her nose away from the fowl smell seeping through his lips. "You best watch your back, _Mrs. Turner, _'cause you won't want it turned with me around to…"

"Do you want your charts back or not?"

Barbossa's threats stopped. "What?"

"Look, Jack has the charts and you want them. Now he has what he wants, the _Pearl_, I have what I want, a way to find Will, and if you come along you'll have what you want… the charts of Captain Feng." She pulled away from him and shrugged. "Of course, you don't have to come along…"

A grin began to crack Barbossa's face and he winked knowingly at her. "Ah, I see! Ya be a hard one to bargain with, Miss Swan, but since you put it that way, I find it hard not to except…"

"That's Turner, Captain. Turner."

**(If you liked it, please review! I know you can't have a _real_** **POTC flick without Jack... and he's one of my fave characters, so I had to put him in! But then, who doesn't like him? If you have any ideas of what should be in the next chapter/s let me know. I got a little stuck with this last chapter, but somehow pulled through... any ideas would be welcomed!)**


	4. Ships, Secrets, and subterfuge

**Chapter 4**

**Ships, Secrets, and Subterfuge**

Jack Sparrow looked out from behind the shadows of two large crates on the dock. The _Pearl_ loomed before him, creakily rocking back and forth on the gentle swells. Jack smiled. Ah,

the _Pearl!_ It was finally his again. Hopefully to stay, this time.

A heavy hand clapped his shoulder. He winced. Of all the people he'd care to sail with, Hector Barbossa was the last on earth. How many times had he watched that man sail off with _his_ ship already? More than he cared to count.

Hector leaned over Jack's back 'til Jack could feel his warm breath on his cheek and smell the stench of rotting teeth. Jack tried to turn his head so the stink wasn't as bad. Barbossa patted his shoulder again.

"Jack, Jack, Jack… Ye know, after we stranded you on that island I never thought I'd be sailin' under your flag again!"

Jack grit his teeth silently. He really disliked that man! "I didn't either, mate. Ye don't have to go, ye know?" he said hopefully, wishing Barbossa would just walk away… and take his hand of his shoulder!

Barbossa grinned, showing his yellowed teeth. "Oh, believe me, ol' friend, I wouldn't miss this trip for the world! It'll be just like the good ol' days!"

"An' what days wou' those be?"

Elizabeth came up behind them in the dark. "Now boys, there's no need to be arguing. Right now we have other things to worry about." She looked up at the dark wharf and the ship looming out of the night. Patrolling the wharf was a uniformed officer, gun slung over his shoulder, grim expression on his face, and a torch in one hand. There was no way the officer could suspect the _Pearl_ to be a pirate vessel with the fresh coat of paint and new mast, but if two pirate-y looking men and a pirate-y dressed woman tried to board while his head was turned in that direction… well, it probably wouldn't end well…

"Did you _have_ to tie her right out where everyone can see her?" Jack hissed at Barbossa.

"Jack, quiet." Elizabeth cast him a pointed glare. "You're not helping the matter. Now, I have a plan; one I think will get us all safely on the _Pearl_ without raising suspicions. But _both of you_ have to do exactly as I say…"

--

"You there! Guard!"

The uniformed officer turned his head. A young Lady stood on the wharf. Her voice sounded sophisticated, though her attire seemed less than lady-like. It was rich enough, though. After the first shock of her appearance, he decided the dark form-fitting breaches, high boots, and over coat suited her nicely. Her dark hair was pinned back, but a few stray locks fell around her face, escaping the tri-cornered hat she was wearing.

"Is there something I can do for you, miss? What is one such as yourself doing out around these parts at this time of night? Ye could get yourself hurt out here; fall off the edge of the dock likely."

She smiled winningly. "I doubt it, sir. I've lived around the docks my whole life."

He nodded. "Then what can I do for you?"

She dipped her head towards the ship behind him. "I was hoping you'd allow me safe conduct to that vessel."

"Well… I'm not supposed to allow anyone on or off the ships once the sun has set. Dock rules."

She smiled again. "I completely understand, but you see, my body guards and I left before the sun set to visit a very dear friend of mine who's fallen ill. I was so upset over her condition that I couldn't leave until I saw her quietly in bed and soundly asleep. But by that time I'd lost track of the hours and the sun was already gone from the sky. My ship is to leave as soon as the sun rises, and I _must_ be aboard."

"I'm sorry for your friend miss, but I'm afraid I don't see why it's so important for you to board tonight. And I'd like to see these body guards of yours…" He peered suspiciously into the dark shadows laying beyond the light of the torch in his hand.

"Of course." She looked back over her shoulder. "Sir Crampton, Master Stocks, will you please come forward?"

Out of the Shadows stepped two miserable looking men. It almost looked like they'd been poured into the uniforms they wore, their dirt mottled skin contrasting the crisp white and red. One had all but two swinging dreadlocks of hair pulled back tightly behind his head in a knotted ponytail. The other had his head covered with a ratty looking wide-brimmed hat that nearly ruined the neat, pressed affect of the uniform. Both wore expressions that clearly stated their dislike for the attire.

The officer looked them over suspiciously. "And these are your body guards, miss?" he asked unconvinced.

"Of course. Sir Crampton and Master Stocks have guarded me for years. You'll not find more loyal guards though you search all of the Caribbean."

"And what did you say your business was?"

"I believe I didn't," Elizabeth pointed out, "But I find no reason to hide my purpose for being here. I'm an ambassador of the East India Trading company. I originally came to Port Royal to look into the Pirate situation we've heard so much about at Headquarters. It would seem, dear sir, that those stories are every bit as true as we've heard tell. The ship you see behind you is a ship of the E.I.Tc. It is to depart in the morning, and I am to report back to my Head on the state of this town." She could see the guard was now nervous and smiled inwardly. Her plan was working.

The guard shifted uneasily on the balls of his feet. "We have very highly trained, first class officers here to guard against the pirate menace. Our forces bring more rebels, pirates, and buccaneers to the gallows than many of the larger towns along the coast."

Elizabeth frowned and raised her voice just enough to sound sophisticatedly irritated. "Be that as it may, I find acts of Piracy to thrive in many of the darker streets. Even now I endure such an act. Would you deprive me of my bed on such a chilled night? Would you have me wait in the streets 'til dawn? You, sir, are acting as unjustly as I would expect any pirate to! I must say, I hardly see how allowing me to board my own vessel would be breaching any rules or laws."

"But miss, it's my duty too…"

"It's your duty to watch over the ships until the return of the owner or the captain. Would you have me report on you and your guard force as well?"

"No miss." The soldier looked extremely uncomfortable. "Of course you may board. Only put in a good word for Port Royal in your report, miss. We do our best here."

"Hmmm… well I see you've been taught _some_ manners. Alright, I shall speak kindly of your forces, though I'm afraid I can alter nothing of the report on piracy. That is one thing I cannot and will not do. Sir Crampton, Master Stocks? My belongings if you please."

The two silent, odd looking body guards retrieved a heavy looking chest that had been sitting in the shadows just behind them and followed the Lady as she walked decidedly up the gangplank. The Wharf Guard watched them until their silhouettes had melted into the darkness settled over the deck of the ship, and then turned his gaze away. No one need know that he broke the rules just this once, he thought. After all, he'd done it to save Port Royal's reputation…

--

Hector Barbossa growled as he pealed off the uniform he'd stolen from a wharf guard he'd knocked out. Beneath the uniform was his own filthy apparel. He looked down at his wrinkled sleeves as if afraid the neatly pressed officers' attire had some how washed and ironed out their prized dinginess. "Ye almost sailed to far there, Miss Turner. If I'd've had to wear that clown's costume one more minute I would've knocked someone's 'ead in!"

Jack was having trouble getting the tie holding his hair back, out of his hair. It had somehow become entangled in his knotted braids and now wouldn't come free. He sighed dramatically. "Oh the things one does for a woman!"

Elizabeth turned on him. "One more word, Jack Sparrow, just one more, and I'll run you through!"

He smiled mockingly at her. "I doubt it, darlin'. You still need me too much."

"I'm warning you!" There was a soft ring of steel on the air, and the shine of silver indicated a sword had been drawn.

"One, you don't 'ave the compass…"

Elizabeth stopped. That was true. The compass that would lead the holder to his heart's desire was in Jack Sparrow's possession. _That_ would certainly come in handy finding the _Flying Dutchman_, a phantom ship that wasn't supposed to able to be found.

"I could still kill you and retrieve the compass."

"No, I don't think so. Ye see, dear, I also have the charts…"

"I could still kill you and…"

"An' I'm the only one who knows anything about the _Flyin' Dutchman_ from the inside, first hand. Wifout me, you can only guess."

Silence. Elizabeth gritted her teeth but tried to look unruffled on the outside. Jack Sparrow was the craziest, stupidest, most drunk Pirate she'd ever met! But sometimes she had to admire him for his brains… his twisted, perverted brains that had just outsmarted her again!

Slowly, she resheathed the sword and strode to within an inch of his face. They were so close she could see his pupils, even in the near darkness on the deck. "Watch yourself, _Jack Sparrow._ I will be." She strode forcefully away.

Jack tried again at the leather thong stuck in his hair. He somehow managed to get part of it free and winced as he freed another part, pulling out a large chunk of black hair with it. Looking out after her, he spoke absentmindedly to Barbossa. "You know, its moments like tha' that make me completely agree with Gibbs."

"Wha' ye mean?"

"It's bad luck havin' a woman aboard!"


End file.
